


For Now

by cavalry



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken | Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavalry/pseuds/cavalry
Summary: Raven returns to the orphanage with gifts in tow.
Relationships: Lucius/Raven (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 89





	For Now

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence (but nothing on-screen). Lucius has a panic attack.
> 
> This fic is set between FE7 and FE6.

They were running low on food. They had been, for a while.

The church gave him a stipend, but it had never been enough. The nearby villagers chipped in when they could, but they were often hard-pressed just put food on their own tables. He kept a garden of crops that are hardy and easy to grow—potatoes, carrots, squash—but the fall air had been turning cold, and the harvest had begun to dry up.

Lucius stood at the kitchen counter, halfway through cutting up a carrot, calculating how much they would need for dinner tonight. He didn’t want to send the children to bed hungry. He remembered the feeling well, from when he was growing up in an orphanage many miles away. When he took over this place, he had resolved that it would be nothing like that. 

Perhaps he had been naive.

“Father!” said Chad and Lugh, barging in through the front door, both pink-cheeked from the cold.

Lucius frowned at that. “Were you out in the cold? Without jackets?”

Lugh had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Well, yes—" 

“We got food!” said Chad, presenting a small basket of forest nuts. It was scarcely a handful, not enough to make much of a difference, but he looked so proud of himself that Lucius couldn’t help but smile.

“And I found some mushrooms!” said Lugh, setting his own basket on the counter. “I remembered which one are edible.”

“You’re both such hard workers,” said Lucius. A pang in his heart; it saddened him that they had to be worried about such a thing to begin with. He had tried his best to shield them from his day-to-day worries, but they were getting older, and were surprisingly observant at times.

At the same time, he was proud of them. They had such good hearts. Lugh was kind to everyone he met, and Chad was a natural caregiver, always looking after the younger children. That they would spend their afternoon foraging to feed the others only showed what wonderful people they were growing into.

“Father?” said Eloise, coming into the kitchen. She was one of the younger children, new to the orphanage. She was still quite shy, but starting to warm up to the others a bit. “There’s a man at the gate.”

Lucius frowned.  _ A man  _ could mean a lot of things. He might be a messenger sent by the church with the next month’s stipend, or a villager delivering hand-me-downs. Perhaps he was even a well-off and magnanimous lord here to adopt a child. (That last one was, admittedly, a bit of a fantasy, but one Lucius kept coming back to.)

On the other hand, he might be a traveler asking for a place to stay for the night. Even tight on food as they were, Lucius could never turn away a person in need. Worse than that, he might be here to abandon his own child and go.

He might even be here to rob them. It had happened once before.

But when Lucius opened the front door, he found it was none of those things.

It was Raymond, standing at the fence post looking quite satisfied with himself. There was a trader’s wagon behind him, which Lucius registered but didn’t have time to think about, because he was already running toward him. He all but flew into Raymond’s arms, and Raymond embraced him just as readily.

He stood there for a moment, just being held. Feeling Raymond’s warmth against him. The strength in his arms. His breath in his hair.

He remembered himself, and where he was (the children, he had a feeling, were watching from the porch) and pulled away before doing anything that might embarrass himself.

“Hello, my love,” he said, quiet enough that no one else could hear.

He wanted to kiss Raymond very, very badly.

“Hello, Lucius,” said Raymond. Others sometimes had difficulty reading Raymond’s expression, but Lucius knew every quirk of his lip, every angle of his brow, and knew that this expression said  _ warmth_.

It would be very easy to stand there, looking into his lover’s eyes, but again, Lucius remembered they had an audience, and in any case he had a few more pressing questions.

“Ah,” he said, regaining his composure, “what’s this?” He was looking at the wagon behind Raymond. It was the sort traders used. Merlinus had used something similar as well, during the war, to store their equipment.

“This is Simon,” said Raymond. A small, wiry man popped his head out and gave a friendly wave. “A trader. I’ve been escorting him from Laus to Araphen.”

The orphanage was just outside Araphen, which meant their journey was almost done. Some little part of Lucius untensed, just a little. He always worried when Raymond was gone. Where he was, what kind of jobs he was taking. If he was hurt. If he was safe. They had agreed, when they stopped taking jobs together, that Raymond would avoid the more dangerous ones. Still, he worried.

“I got some things, for you and the kids,” Raymond continued. “If it’s alright with you, we’ll unload them now, and then I’ll escort him the rest of the way into town.”

Raymond and disappeared into the wagon, and soon reappeared with an armful of jackets in various sizes. Good jackets, warm ones lined with fur. Lucius took them, overwhelmed, and in the next minute Raymond was back piling thick wool scarves in his arms. He returned again with hats and socks.

“R-Raymond—” said Lucius. “How did you—” 

Finally, he and Simon unloaded several barrels from the back of the cart. Heavy, by the looks of them.

“What’s in there?” asked Chad, who had snuck up to his side at some point.

“Salted meat,” said Raymond, and Lucius nearly cried with relief.

\--

They got everything into the orphanage, and Raven set off to take Simon the rest of the way into town, with a promise to be back in a few hours. Lucius resumed cooking dinner, this time with renewed gusto. He had been planning on making a carrot stew, but now they could add mushrooms, a bit of beef, and have something properly filling.

It was amazing, the change in attitude the day had brought him. He had woken up with morning terribly anxious, but now he was almost giddy with relief.

“You’re in a good mood today, Father!” said Lugh, who was sitting at the counter watching him cook. 

“It’s because  _ Raymond _ is here,” said Raigh.

Lucius immediately blushed.

It was more than that, of course, but if Raigh hadn’t realized how worried he had been about getting through the winter, then perhaps that was for the best.

He wasn’t wrong, after all. Lucius  _ was _ happy to see Raymond.

The two of them had attempted to keep their relationship a private thing. Officially, Raymond was “Father Lucius’s friend.” The children were young, he told himself, and didn’t need to know about his love life. (And yes, perhaps a part of it was because he knew the teasing would be incessant.) Unfortunately, the children paid attention, and Lucius had a sneaking suspicion that they were beginning to have suspicions of their own.

“Hush, now,” he chided, with no force behind it. “Here, can you taste this?”

\--

Dinner that night was warm and cheery. Eloise told them a long and somewhat rambling story about a dog named Pickles; Lucius had never seen her speak so much. She ended up with stew smeared around her mouth, and Chad swooped in with a napkin to clean her up. Lugh, who had recently discovered a talent in anima magic, reported that he was now able to conjure a small fireball, at which Raigh jumped in and said that his studies in magic were going even better. Raymond sat across from Lucius, and every time their gazes met Raymond would give him a small, private smile and nudge their knees together.

Lucius was so  _ happy_. They had food for the winter, and winter coats, and Raymond was whole and safe and  _ here_.

So they ate, and then Lucius got dishes washed off and got the children sent off to bed (not an easy task, with seven children in the home). 

Finally, it was just him and Raymond, standing in the empty kitchen.

Raymond was leaning against the counter; Lucius tried to maneuver past him, intent of wiping down the countertops, but Raymond took Lucius by the hips and pulled him close. Lucius sank against him instantly, burying his face in the other man’s neck. Cleaning could wait.

“My love,” he said. Raymond kissed the top of his head.

“I missed you,” Lucius said. It felt a bit needy, admitting that. Raymond’s mercenary jobs took him away for weeks or even months at a time. When it was just Lucius and the children, he was Father, and that meant he didn’t have time in the day for his own worries. It had been a long time since he had been able to be vulnerable like this.

Raymond didn’t say anything in return. Instead he guided Lucius’ chin up and kissed him sweet and slow. Lucius melted into it. They had kissed many times over the years, sometimes quick, sometimes perfunctory, sometimes sloppy, sometimes desperate.

But this kind of kissing was his favorite, tender and with nowhere else to be.

He had never expected to have this. A lover. The orphanage. A family. It was hardly a fairy tale, but it was his, and tonight he had everything he could possibly want.

A floorboard creaked somewhere down the hall, and Lucius pulled away from Raymond, trying futilely to smooth his robe. The sound of tiny footsteps, and then Eloise poked her head around the corner.

“I’m thirsty,” she said.

“I’ll get you some water,” Lucius said, scooping her up onto his hip. He got her a glass of water and put her back in bed, and made sure she was good and settled before returning to the kitchen. 

Raymond had finished wiping down while he was gone, and seized upon him immediately, eager to pick up where they had left off. Lucius understood the feeling, but was now acutely aware that they were in the kitchen and anyone could walk in on them, so (with great reluctance) put a hand out to stop him.

“Not out here,” he said. “Come, let’s go to bed.”

\--

Lucius had a narrow cot in a narrow room. There really wasn’t enough space for two people in his bed, but they always made it work, even if it meant sleeping sprawled across Raymond’s chest. (To be honest, he liked it that way. He always wanted to be as close as possible. Laying skin to skin, close enough to hear Raymond’s heart beating,  _ still _ wasn’t close enough, but it was the best they could do.) 

Raymond followed him in, shucking off layers of clothes. He bent to take his socks off, but then his leg seemed to buckle beneath him, and for one frightening moment it looked like he was about to fall.

“Raymond?” asked Lucius, alarmed. He rushed to his side, ready to support him, but Raymond waved him off. He managed to get back to his feet, bracing himself against the wall.

“It’s fine—" 

“What’s wrong?”

“I said it’s  _ fine— _" 

“ _Raymond—_ "

__

Raymond grimaced. “Just an injury I took on the road. It’s mostly healed now. Truly, you don’t need to worry—" 

__

“I’ll decide if I need to worry or not,” snapped Lucius. It came out harsher than he meant. “Take off your pants. I’ll get my staff.”

__

“Lucius,” said Raymond, in his  _ you’re being unreasonable tone, _ but Lucius was already rummaging through his closet. Here was where he kept every spare object he might need at some point in the future—buttons, candles, a broken knife that could perhaps be fixed, toys the children had outgrown. But where was his staff? His hands were shaking as he dug through the boxes.

__

Finally, the Mend staff. He pulled it and turned around to find that Raven had obediently stripped his pants off and was now sitting on the bed. He looked concerned, almost wary.

__

“Lucius,” he said, “I mean it when I say you don’t need to waste that on me. You should save it, in case someone ever needs it more than me.” Lucius knew what  _ someone _ meant—one of the children. It was a low blow.

__

“It’s my staff,” said Lucius. He was going for authoritative but sounded petulant, even to his own ears. He was breathing hard, shaking with anxiety. “It’s my decision when I use it.”

__

He strode over. Raymond had a bandage on his right thigh, and Lucius began to unwind it quickly, almost roughly in his hurry. Finally, he got it off, and couldn’t help but gasp at what he saw.

__

Raymond was right in saying there likely wasn’t much point in using a staff on him. The wound was mostly healed, which meant there wasn’t much healing magic could do. Lucius traced a finger over the puckered edge of the scar. It looked to be a stab wound—not long, but deep, as if someone had plunged a dagger into his thigh. The muscle there had likely taken permanent damage.

__

This sort of wound must have bled a lot.

__

“I thought,” he said, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. “I thought you said you were just escorting a caravan.”

__

“I was,” said Raymond. He put his hand over Lucius’s, where it was clenching the blanket. “It’s not uncommon for wagons to be attacked by bandits. Normally even the presence of an armed guard will deter them, but in this case they outnumbered us, and I suppose they thought they had the advantage. They didn’t realize I’ve fought off much worse than them.” Raymond was smiling a little, as if this was an amusing recollection.

__

Lucius didn’t smile back. He had gone numb.

__

This was his worst nightmare, every time Raymond was out on the road—that he would die gutted on the side of the road somewhere, killed by some bandit. An anonymous corpse, unburied, unmourned. Lucius would wait for him to return, but the months would pass by and his trepidation would grow, and eventually it would be past the time when Raymond should have returned, and that fear would turn to a dark certainty that he would try not to acknowledge, that something must have happened, and he would keep waiting but Raymond would never come,  _ he would never see Raymond again _ , and the children would ask when he was coming back, and without the extra income they would all slowly starve, and— 

__

His breathing was speeding up, coming in shaky gasps, but none of them seemed to fill his lungs. He couldn’t get enough air.

__

He could feel himself teetering on the verge of one of his attacks, but it was too late to stop it. It was like skipping a stair and realizing he was about to fall. All he could do was brace for impact.

__

“You— _said _—you wouldn’t be fighting—” he said tearily, and then it was upon him.

__

Raymond realized right away what it was. They had gotten through many of these together, although it had been a long time since Lucius had suffered one.

__

He pulled Lucius against him, and Lucius clung to him immediately, desperately. It was a little easier, when he had something to anchor himself to. He closed his eyes and buried his face in Raymond’s shoulder, taking great shuddering breaths.

__

“Breathe for me,” Raymond was saying, somewhere in the distance. Lucius was  _ trying _ , but it was like his lungs were full of concrete, and there was scarcely any room for air. His heart was racing.

__

Somewhere far away, Raymond was stroking his hair.

__

Lucius always lost track of time, when he had one of his attacks. They were a sort of waking nightmare with a veil of unreality to them. The whole thing would feel hazy afterwards, hard to remember, but when they were happening they seemed to last forever.

__

He kept breathing, and Raymond kept murmuring to him, and eventually his heart stopped pounding and breathing got a little easier.

__

\--

__

Somewhere in the blur after his attack, Raymond got him into bed and blew out the candle. Lucius felt exhausted, but at the same time as if there were no way he could possibly sleep.

__

They lay there in the dark, curled up together. Lucius was still trembling, a little. Raymond was running a soothing hand up and down his back.

__

“I do have good news,” said Raymond quietly. “Surely you must have wondered where I got the supplies.”

__

“I did wonder,” said Lucius. “I didn’t want to ask in front of the children.” He didn’t  _ really _ think Raymond had gotten them by unsavory means, but, well. They had seven little mouths to feed, and if he had no other way to feed them, sometimes he wasn’t sure what he would do himself.

__

“Remember when the war ended, and I told Hector who I was? He offered me a title and some land. Not like what my family had before, but a nice little consolation prize.  _ Sorry we stripped them of their titles and got them killed and ruined your life, we really do feel bad about it. _ That sort of thing. _ ” _

__

“You turned him down,” said Lucius.

__

“Yeah,” said Raymond. “Well, I went back to Ostia. I told him I didn’t want land or a title, just money. Whatever the value of the land he was going to give me was, whatever the going price of a title is these days. Just give me money and I would happily go away.” Lucius could hear him smiling. He was pleased. “I really shook him down for it too. Didn’t let him send me away cheaply. I spent some already on food and winter clothes, but there’s more in the bag. It’s a decent amount, Lucius.”

__

“You… you mean…” Lucius could scarcely believe it, didn’t want to begin to hope.

__

“It’s not going to last us forever, but it’s enough for now. It means I can stay the winter, anyway.”

__

Lucius, unexpectedly, burst into tears.

__

“Whoa—Lucius?”

__

“I’m happy,” said Lucius immediately, trying to reassure, smiling through the tears. “I… this is such a relief. You can’t even begin to imagine.”

__

Raymond pulled him closer (no easy feat when Lucius was already half on top of him). “I think I can,” he said.

__

Lucius sagged against him, letting Raymond wrap his arms around him. Raymond was safe. Raymond was staying. They had food and clothes for the winter. It wouldn’t last forever, but for now they had everything they needed.

__

As he drifted off to sleep, he prayed to Saint Elimine, thanking her for his many blessings.

__

**Author's Note:**

> \- I love the fan theory that Lucius is the Father who runs the orphanage in FE6. It's bittersweet for sure, since it means he dies in the war, but in the meantime they get to have a happy life. 
> 
> \- I wanted to write something short and cute about Lucius with the kids, and then Raven coming home to them, and then it kind of got away from me (tonally and in terms of length). I guess sometimes you've gotta go where the fic takes you?
> 
> \- The exact nature of Lucius's in-game "fits" or "attacks" are left vague, but you can make a strong case that they're panic attacks, so that’s how I depicted them in this fic. (Likewise, Lucius’s “sickness of the soul” isn’t really elaborated on, but I believe it’s meant to be mental illness. My headcanon is PTSD, but there are definitely different ways you can interpret it.)
> 
> \- Since Raven reveals his identity to Hector in his paired ending with Lucius, there's no sense in using a fake name anymore, hence the fic referring to him as Raymond. Lucius did continue to refer to him as Lord Raymond for a while, but Raymond felt weird about that after they got together, and asked him to just call him by name. But that's a story for another fic.
> 
> \- You can find me on Twitter @chrobinass!


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